I'm 5-foot-5, slim, with brown hair and brown eyes. I suffer from mental illness.” Finally verging on being over a long-term, on-and-off relationship, I am both excited and terrified at the prospect of a new one.
On one hand, I am the most self-confident I have ever been.
Would anything have been different had I waited longer to tell these guys about my illness? I have no qualms about someone seeing my cellulite, but I am afraid of him seeing my self-inflicted scars; I'm not sure I would trust a person who had caused herself such violence, so why should he trust me?
I am getting ready to switch medications, which can be ugly. I've seen how my illness affects my loved ones, and as much as I long for marriage and children, I often think everyone might be better off if I moved to a secluded fjord in Iceland and just sent postcards. She's thoughtful and shy, eats regular meals and goes out with her friends, reads books and likes making things. But the mentally ill side of me, like the springy snakes you stuff inside a joke can of nuts, is going to burst forth with a vengeance at some point, and she is no joke.
Possibly the worst effect my illness has on relationships is my inability to let go of something that is clearly not working. Many people will not be interested in dealing with my illogical side, and it’s not their fault or mine. In , Martin Amis wrote: “Have you ever stayed in a place where you wanted someone who didn't want you?
Esti* had been dating someone for several weeks and felt that before continuing, she must let the guy in on her secret.
She regularly engages in psychotherapy and takes daily prescribed medication.
She is successful socially, educationally and occupationally, but she is constantly battling her illness, trying to prevent it from flaring up.
It feels dishonest not to mention certain things to someone you’re trying to seduce, in the way I would feel dishonest not mentioning that I had a child or was missing a nose.If there’s one thing I know about depression, though, it’s that it’s devoid of logic, and you can feel your lowest and your highest all at once.) My dating history is checkered, to say the least.It's mostly a trail of intense but short-lived relationships, with a few regrettable one-night stands sprinkled here and there.From the beginning he saw me as a damaged waif in need of protection, and I let him. I am much better at picking friends than romantic partners, and nothing has ever gone terribly wrong with this approach.
But somehow it doesn’t seem quite enough when you’re taking the first steps toward asking someone to love you for better or for worse.I can't imagine anyone asking her out, let alone thinking she’d be a good mother to their children.